


A Succubus' Tale

by Miss Ebil (MissEbil)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Daemons, F/M, Historical, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, I really hate people who steal hard work, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Paris (City), Rough Sex, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 22:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEbil/pseuds/Miss%20Ebil
Summary: An ancient succubus recounts a tale of one of her favourite conquests, a captain in historical Paris.





	A Succubus' Tale

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to post this old story of mine here, because even though it's a short piece of original fiction, I have published it before online under another name (in August 2008) , it has, unfortunately, been copied to other sites without credit to me.  
> This pretty much scuppers any chance of me ever publishing it. As such, I thought I may as well share it here for you all to enjoy and for me to see how much my writing has changed and developed over so many years.  
> I am leaving the text largely unedited, save for a quick run through a spell checker and the fixing of some glaring errors, as it was originally posted.  
> Even though the story leads you to believe it's part of a series, I'm not sure that I will ever add any more to it, as any original works that I do now are being kept away from the public in case I ever decide to try and publish them.
> 
> I might just use it as part of a fic world, but to say how it would fit in would be a spoiler ;)
> 
> Forgive my bad French and lack of historical detail, this was written when I was about 18...

I am a succubus. My sisters and I were born from the first perfect passion in the first kiss of man and woman.

I live mostly in my human form; a woman with the usual stereotype D-cup breasts, long black hair and a small waist. What can I say? That's what the men want, and after all it's all about the men.

Men are where I get my power. Every man I sleep with gives me more power, and the more powerful the man, the more power I take from my encounter. It's not that I steal their power, more that I clone it. Every man I have ever slept with has left a memory inside of me, a little piece of him with me all the time. It's sort of a points system; so that is why I go after the Witches, the vampires, the Werepeople, basically any supernatural person or being is a major plus for me.

Sure, I go for the mortal men too, but that's mostly for the look on their faces. There's nothing quite like appearing in front of the average man in his greatest fantasy situation, looking better than something out of their wildest dreams. See, my face changes.

I appear to everyone as his or her vision of facial perfection. Guess that's a good thing seeing as some men don't like the full lips and emerald eyes. The thing is that nobody else can see what somebody else sees, but I know. I see it all in my mind because that's my job, two people can be looking at me and if you asked them to describe me they would probably be totally different because it's their perceptions that shape what they see.

I mentioned before that I stay in my human form, that's because my natural daemon form would scare the shit out of most people, and that's definitely not the idea. The wings would be scary enough for most mortals, all leathery and mostly bruise purple with those oh-so-stereotypical bony fingers.

That reminds me of how my hands get too. Claws would be probably more appropriate than hands, but not in an animal way, they're definitely like nothing born of the Earth. I get to retain the freedom of movement of those eternally useful opposable thumbs of a human, but my nails grow thick and even longer than I have them in human form and I get just a hint of scaliness for flavour.

The majority of my scales are around my thighs and up to my waist. A great step in my, well I would say evolution; but I just happened into being as I am now, that preserves my modesty. Well it would, if being naked in front of anybody actually bothered me. I guess that's a kind of prerequisite when you do what I do.

Work your way down my legs and you'd really want to run. It's the total inherent inhumanity of the typical goat-like daemon structure of the majority of my leg ending with feet somewhere between eagle's talons and a tiger's claws that are the key to scaring the pants off people. I mean, add those on top of everything else attached to a human torso and you have one scary beast. And oh, did I mention my horns? Barely visible through my hair, once you come across them, they're the cutest damn little things you ever saw.

 

So, I guess you're here to hear some of my tales, that's what most people are here for lately. There's just too much free and easy sex for people to approach me for anything these days. Though I don't mind going after men, it lets me have the pick of the crop, and the chase usually gives me a hunger enough to last a couple of hours when I finally get a hold of him.

Hmm, so what's a good story to start you off with? You think you can handle some of the best stuff, because I wouldn't want anything to happen to you that might embarrass you, would I? Ha ha, sure? Okay then, are we all sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.

* * *

 

It was early on in the nineteenth century; I had been on a tour, so to say, of Europe for a good twenty years or so at the time, sampling all I could get from such a variety of cultures. The flavours were magnificent, I can tell you, but there was one particular tasty treat that I remember in particular.

Settled in the corner of a coffee house in gay Paris, I was content for a while to sit and watch the humans' lives tick slowly by from my seat against a wall, and drink what must have been my tenth cup of coffee by then. The waves of desire had covered me like a warm blanket, any strong desire is pleasurable for me to be around, be it for chocolate, to be heard or good old sexual tension.

  
  


As I raised the cup yet again to my scarlet-stained lips, something had shone through the haze of background desire like the sun burning away the clouds. My eyes flicked up to the frosted glass door just as a tall figure came smoothly through it. There was a glow surrounding him that I had only seen with a select few other men and at once, I knew that he was something special, something more powerful than the average man.

Right then and there, I knew that I just had to have him. Not that it would be hard, there are only a handful of men that could possibly ever resist my charms, and most of those didn't want to. He turned to look at me, his chiseled features were lit by this light that I saw all around him and he was wonderful to behold. He'd be good, I knew that too.

I called upon my powers there and then, pulling his aura towards me, and him with it, drinking his power into me and feeling it like a cool breeze through the warmth. He walked with a smooth grace, despite his square shoulders, making his long overcoat sway behind him. Knee high boots accentuated his height and tight britches showed off thigh muscles that told me he'd been in the military for some time. A quick look further up and I was proven right, he was wearing a regimental frock coat that looked so perfectly fitted it was almost untrue.

"Excuse moi, Madame. Ce siège est-il occupé?" he asked, his voice not quite deep enough to fall into, but with a richness stronger than my coffee.

I answered in English. "No, be my guest." And added a smile for good measure.

"Ah, you speak English, but you do not sound like an Englishwoman." His accent remained thick, though his grasp of the language seemed excellent. He slipped his overcoat off before sitting down with an air of power that only came through gaining rank and notoriety rightfully.

"I am not English, by birth, but I have spent quite a lot of time there over the years."

"Oh, forgive me Madame, I forget my manners. Pray, allow me to introduce myself, Captain Henri St. Juste, at your service." He nodded his head politely, a lock of his chestnut brown hair falling to the side of his face. I nodded similarly.

"Persephone Moreaux, a pleasure to meet you Captain," I have had many names over the years, this one I had taken up only recently, inspired by the erotic writings about gods and men that one could acquire in the underworld, if you only knew how.

"Non, Madame, the pleasure is entirely mine." I could sense something more in his words that would be masked to any mortal. It was that pure sexual desire that was so strong in this part of the city, among a society that saw anything sexual as improper for public viewing. Nevertheless, it was there, and I could feel it, like swimming in a hot bath of silky pleasures.

"So, what brings you here, Captain?" I said, smiling over the rim of my cup before sipping it gently, then setting it down with more care than was necessary. Making sure that my eyes went down with it, so that I could look up from under my long eyelashes at him for just a moment. A look guaranteed to melt just about any shell, and there it was, that tiny flicker in his façade that told me he was interested.

"I am currently at liberty from service to Napoleon, though I regret I am unable to reveal the nature of work, suffice to say I have been charged with a secret assignment."

"Oh, that is simply thrilling," I leant forward in my dark wooden chair and spoke secretively, "Is it terribly important?"

"Yes," he leant in over the table too, so close that I could smell the musky allure of his cologne, as soft as his voice against my senses. "It's more than my career, and even my life, is worth to tell you."

"All this conspiracy and war is absolutely thrilling," I said, ensuring to breathe deeply enough that so that my more than ample bosom heaved against the tight bodice top of my dress. I saw his eyes flick down to my chest and I thought that it was all going too well when I looked into his still straight face.

Such a gesture that would normally have reduced most men to nonsense for at least a few moments had seemed not to affect him, on the surface. Concentrating a little harder on him, I saw his aura changing from yellow into a deep red. He was feeling it, just not letting it show. Or so he thought. Though, I had to praise him on his most consummate acting.

Maybe the dear Captain would be more of a challenge than I thought. All the more fun for me.

"Indeed," Henri spoke slowly, clasping his hands in front of him as he reclined in his chair opposite to me. The waitress had come to our table and, placing a white china cup in front of Captain St. Juste, poured him a freshly brewed coffee and left with a sour look. Hmm, jealousy can be such a beautiful thing. "Seeing as how we cannot talk of my business, may I enquire as to why you are in Paris this fine day?"

The Captain's mask of polite indifference had returned, but the thought that I had ruffled him underneath that excited me. The chase was on, and he was prey.

"Oh, I'm just picking up a few things. Mostly I'm here to observe." At the Captain's questioning look, I continued, "Military tactics are something of a fascination to me. Bonaparte and Nelson are two of the best in history, so naturally I want to see both sides."

"It is something unheard of amongst women here in France, as in most of Europe, as I understand. Are you truly interested, or are you merely attempting to impress a Captain into thinking you are not a spy?" The smile that he ended his question with told me that he wasn't serious. He was teasing me right back. I didn't know if this was a good or bad thing.

"No, no, I am truly interested. Particularly in the mystery of Napoleon's naval plans. I know all about what Nelson plans to do, and before you ask," I held up a well-manicured hand to stop him as he opened his mouth to speak, "I will not reveal any plans, to either side. The outcome of this war is of little consequence to me, like I said, I am not allied to the English, or the French, I am here to observe."

We talked for some time, sometimes not about much, but mainly military issues. I had convinced him, it seemed, that I was indeed neutral after all. Oops, guess some of my power might have slipped into that conversation.

It was after around an hour of us talking that things started to get more interesting, see my magic was working him, little by little, for all of the time. By now, he was loose enough that he would speak of just about anything, if I brought up the subject.

"We have talked for so long now, Captain St. Juste, surely I must be encroaching onto your important duties." I added a small smile to be sure that we would not part company quite so soon.

Henri consulted his pocket watch, a long finger tracing the edge of the dial as he considered the time briefly. His face seemed to relax and the silver chain snaked between his long fingers as he slid it back into the pocket of his cobalt blue coat.

"It seems, Madame, that I must indeed go to my duties." His face was solemn, though I could see through his aura that he was playing at something. It was always so much more fun when they play the same games as I. "However, I believe that I can trust you sufficiently, so, how would you like to accompany me on a small jaunt across Paris?"

"Thank-you for your invitation, Captain, I am sure that it will be wonderful. The city is so beautiful this time of the year."

Standing first, Henri found himself unable to take my chair; the gentleman Captain contented himself with taking my hand in his as I rose. As I stood beside him, I realised his eyes, which up until now I had thought to be simply brown, were more amber as the sunlight caught them. Maybe he was something more than he appeared, even to me. A Witch perhaps, but one that didn't know what they were. He was human, that was for sure, but definitely something more.

Once I had straightened my long skirt, I held Captain St. Juste's arm as we walked to the door, the sunlight still streaming through the frosted glass. Finally being this close to him, I could feel that he exuded warmth that was more than body heat. Of course, I lapped it up like a kitten with cream and it was delicious. I wouldn't say that I could taste his power, but that's the closest sense that I can relate it to.

I rolled his power around my mind like you'd savour the melting of fine chocolate, taking all the elements in. There was a warmth, the same tingling heat that I had felt move along my skin, and a calm power that seemed to be waiting for something; maybe another life. I saw that more than you'd believe in those days, there's so much power in people, but it seems that they're all just waiting for some other time to release it.

 

"Where are we going?" I asked merrily as the glass door closed behind us. The autumn air was cool, but the sun shined enough so that the only chill was from the wind that blew my hair over my left shoulder to mingle with Henri's chestnut mane.

"I must pick up an important package from a contact in the back streets near Rue de la Nord." Henri's face remained politely calm, but he seemed nevertheless a little nervous.

I smiled back at him, and we set off towards the North. The street on which we walked was lined with tall poplar trees, each fenced around with decorated iron railings. My low heels clicked on the stone of the pavement as I looked over at Captain St Juste, his long nose in sharp profile against the grey buildings. His lips were full, and a lovely shade of deep pink against his brown skin, a colour not born of his work. It was all natural.

I've still to work out what made Henri St Juste enter the military. He was of sufficient breeding that he need not be forced into service of his country, and had intelligence enough to succeed at anything he turned his attentions to. Yet here he was, lower in rank than many of equal stature, and having worked his way up from the bottom, too. A man simply did not throw away privilege for no reason.

By now, the street had narrowed into a residential part of the city, tall houses looming either side of us. The air had cooled as we walked along in the shade of the buildings, my hand on his elbow. I felt his lean muscles tense as we approached the top of a smaller street and he slowed his pace. The street was more like an alley, with the houses on either side leaning together more the further down the street I looked.

"Do you wish to continue?" Henri turned to face me, "The smaller streets can be dangerous. You could remain here, where it is safe, I shall only be a minute."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I could handle myself better than him, after all. "Besides, I have a strong Captain to protect me." I squeezed his arm a little to reassure him.

"Very well." Normal sound disappeared almost completely as we entered the alleyway, filled instead with something indescribably thick, broken only by occasional crashes from the other side of grimy windows and the sound of small mammals that my inhuman ears detected running in the shadows.

Eventually, we reached a black door that seemed in a vaguely better condition than the rest of the street and Henri knocked sharply three times. A panel slid back, revealing a pair of plain brown eyes surrounded by grimy skin. The eyes grunted and a few opened locks soon revealed them to belong to an equally plain man. He beckoned us in wordlessly and we entered the dark square of the doorway.

 

Inside, the house lived up to its exterior appearance, though it seemed rather more full of mismatched objects than I expected the average house in this part of town to be. A tall dresser that looked like it had fallen into place crowded the small hallway in which we now stood. It was adorned with all manner of objects, from porcelain crockery and ornaments to blackening silverware. To me, it seemed to be a collection of all the pretty things that the occupant owned, collected and displayed in a vain attempt to impress visitors they never received.

"Didn't know you were bringing a present, Captain," The man sneered. His voice was thick and crackly as he spoke in French, then chuckled, looking me up and down in that disgusting way that some men do. The men that usually have to pay for what they want. He wasn't ugly, but as he licked his lips, I saw that his manner was repulsive. He was a low-life.

"This woman is a friend of mine, and a respectable person. You so much as look at her the wrong way again and I'll see to it you'll never befoul another woman with your filth." Henri scowled as he spoke, despising the man, and I fixed him with a stare that chilled him to the bone. "Now, have you got the package?"

Another grunt, and the man shuffled off into one of the doorways down the hall. Henri turned to me, an apologetic and slightly shocked look on his face.

"I am so sorry, Persephone, I should have warned you about Pierre." He spat the man's name like it were poison in his mouth, then his brow furrowed as he waited for my reply.

The way that my name trickled off his tongue had distracted me, and my mind had wandered onto planes that yours could never imagine. The sound had slid down my body like a cool stream of water, heightening my senses and making everything brighter, even in this dingy wallow. Words failed me for just a moment; instead, I smiled meekly and nodded to Captain St Juste.

Pierre returned after another moment, shuffling back with a thin package of what appeared to be papers, bound in a leather pouch with brown string. Henri took the package with a violent swipe and quickly tucked it into an inside pocket of his coat.

We left without another word to Pierre, the Captain opening the door and ushering me through before him. I can't say that I wasn't glad to be out of there, even if Pierre would have come off a lot worse if he'd have tried anything with me. Henri was seething still as we reached the top of the alley.

 

I then sighed and turned to the Captain. "I fear we must part ways now, Henri. For you surely must return the package to your commanding officer."

I must have sounded as pathetically naïve as I had tried, because Henri looked a little dejected. "I should return them right away," he sighed, but his face lightened, "But my superiors are not expecting me to come to them until tomorrow morning."

"Oh," I did my best to sound surprised, but even I'm sure it didn't work.

"Madame, it would please me greatly if you would accompany me back to my apartment. It is not far from here and we may continue our conversations there. I have a particularly fine chardonnay that has been begging to be tasted for all too long."

Perfect. I grinned, it was most unladylike of me, but I just couldn't help it. "I'd love to."

I took his arm once again, as we walked further up the street, but this time I let myself be closer to him. I pressed as much of myself against him as I could without seeming overtly like the loose woman I am. Well, it doesn't pay to let the reputation of a good man down.

I smiled all the way down the street, thinking of what was to come and savouring the pure potential of my situation. It was delicious, every possibility there, dancing around my head like a troupe of exotic dancers, each movement sent a shiver to a different place on my skin. An image of Henri gyrating on top of me flashed into my head, his trim muscles moving under that beautiful tan skin; it almost made me moan out loud right there on the street.

* * *

 

Captain Henri St Juste's apartment was not a large one, but it was spacious enough for the time that he spent in Paris. There certainly was plenty of room for me, I've been in much tighter spaces, I can tell you. There were only two rooms, a bedroom with a desk so it doubled as a study as well, and a small bathroom.

Almost as soon as we arrived at the apartment, I went to the small white-tiled bathroom on the pretence of 'powdering my nose'. I am fully sure that Henri saw through that particularly thin veneer, though I know not what he thought instead.

 

Closing my eyes, I leant onto the washstand with its plain white porcelain bowl. That vision had shaken me, but in a good way, though I was damned if I'd admit it this early in front of the Captain, that would give the game away. So, I took a few calming and cleansing breaths, pushing the feelings deep inside of me, saving them for later. Deep down I knew that the wait would make everything better in the end.

I stood there, looking into the mirror for what seemed like aeons, just staring at my reflection. I eventually saw what I was looking at, and it surprised me, which is rare. The first thing that hit me was my hair, it had turned a vibrant shade of auburn, but that didn't describe it properly. It was bright, like the setting sun in midsummer, but deep too, like blood. My usual slight wave remained, bringing my hair to cascade over my shoulders with no effort at all, and causing it to ripple as I turned my head from side to side.

Upon closer examination, I saw that my large eyes were green, like emeralds with the reflected light of a thousand evergreen trees bouncing around them. My skin was pale, shaded just darker than white by a European summer, a colour so suited to my new hair. My nose was small on a new, rounded face and my lips not too full, but a beautiful pale pink akin to a freshly bloomed rose. The overall effect was not one of the varying levels of stunning beauty that I am used to, but more a wholesome prettiness that you wouldn't be scared to take home to see your mother. Something you wouldn't be afraid to love.

A further deep breath brought the thought to me; it was time. A wicked smile crossed my lips as I walked to the door, but I was forced again to compose myself. This was a game, and the art was all in the play, not the winning.

 

The main room was darker than when we had first came in. Henri had closed the heavy, velvet curtains and lit several large candles. The flickering light that the cast around the room caused dramatic shadows to be thrown over the flocked walls, and Henri's lovely face. The mood was truly enticing.

My eyes slid immediately to the large bed and it's clothes that looked so soft and inviting even from here. The weave was so fine that even my superhuman eyesight could not quite pick up on the material at a glance. It needed to be touched, but that would be just the invitation that Henri needed, and this whole thing would be over far too quickly.

He silently motioned for me to sit in one of the pair of straight-backed chairs that stood in front of his writing bureau. Holding the bottle of chardonnay in his left hand, he reached into a desk drawer that lay open in front of his chair. I caught another waft of his cologne, still musky, but now there was something sweeter there. I could smell the allure of his body as it told him that he wanted me, a smell like the sweetness of flowers filled to bursting with nectar, but ultimately masculine.

With the corkscrew he took from the drawer, the Captain deftly opened the bottle with a resounding pop, and set the cork and screw aside. Proffering a glass to me, Henri smiled a warmer smile than I'd seen grace those wondrous lips before. Taking the glass from him, our fingers touched, sending a wave of heat through me and giving his amber eyes a light to match that beautiful smile.

"A toast," he said, as our hands parted, "To new friendships, and to the appreciation of beauty," he nodded his head slightly to me before lifting his glass. I did similarly before I took a sip, all the time keeping my eyes on that face of his as he sat down beside me.

The wine hit my tongue like a burst of golden nectar, the flavour filling my mouth with only a tiny sip. A good, strong base of pure sweet grapes was tinged with a delicious mixture of citrus fruits. Yet, the whole taste was rounded somehow, and no sooner had I noticed the citrus tingle than it began to fade into a mellow flavour that was akin to elderflower, although different entirely.

The effect of this wine, when accompanied by such a good view, was so much that I must have been staring at the Captain for longer than I remember, for his expression turned to puzzlement as I regained my senses.

I couldn't help but look down at my knees; it wasn't often that anything distracted me, that anything made me feel embarrassed. Yes, even though I hate to admit it now, I was turning pink about my cheeks. I could feel the heat as I looked down with unseeing eyes. A slow blink and my vision returned, only to find that my knee was touching Henri's. The thick silks of my skirts and the soft cloth of his breeches the only thing stopping almost all of our thighs from touching.

The heat increased, though this time it seemed to come off Henri himself. Radiating out of him into me was a heat, a desire that threatened to overwhelm even me. My breathing became shallow as I gripped the wine glass tighter; it's contents so close to my nose that the heady scent only added to the elation that I was feeling thanks to Henri.

I must have let out a gasp at that point, because Henri's smile took a wicked turn. So, he liked to play the game too, and he was aware of what his affect was, if not fully. Believe me, it takes a lot to make a Succubus blush.

"Oh, Persephone, your cheeks have turned a most beautiful shade. Like a rose beneath the summer sun." he put down his wineglass and reached out, stopping only an inch before he touched my cheek. "I can feel the warmth from here. My dear, you are an exquisite example as ever there was of how beautiful a woman can be."

My stomach leaped and something even lower tightened in anticipation as Henri closed the almost imperceptible gap between his hand and my cheek. The skin of his hand wasn't harsh against mine, but it was slightly rough and work worn. My eyes closed themselves and my lips parted as I breathed in his scent once again. His face was so close to mine by then that I could smell the wine on his warm breath as he caressed my cheek.

I swallowed the lump that had caught in my throat and it brought me back to my senses. Whatever had been happening to me, I couldn't let it distract me from what I was after. With my eyes firmly back on the prize, I turned on the charm again.

"Oh, you flatter me." I squeezed as much innocence into that one sentence as I could muster.

"You are worthy of it all, Madame, for your beauty outshines a thousand flowers under the brightest summer sun like your rose has never-before been seen."

I smiled sweetly, "Eloquent as well as oh so very handsome." I took his hand in my slender one, holding it close to my chest without touching even the lace of my neckline. "Tell me, how much do you want me?"

Though taken aback by my abrupt change to a wicked smile, Captain St. Juste was far too ensnared within my magic to protest. He stared at me, but it wasn't harsh, those amber eyes contained nothing but passion so they seemed to glow with a golden light.

"I do want you," his voice was little more than a sigh, his breathing becoming quicker. "I want you more than anyone or anything," his voice became stronger as the passion and need welled within him. "I want you so badly that it hurts. I want you in this moment more than I want life itself."

"Good," I said it slowly. Feeling that tingle between my legs, I knew that he was going to be good. I finally put down my glass before I stood; pulling Henri up by his hand that was still clasped firmly in mine. "What would you do to have me right now?"

"I would give away everything that I own and desert my own country just to throw myself at your feet. You are a goddess walking among men."

"Well, nearly." I said with a little chuckle. It was beautiful to make men want me so much that they would do literally anything for me. But maybe this was too much, Henri's brow was furrowed with intense belief and the look in his eyes was so truthful that even I couldn't go on teasing him like this. The time for playing was over. Now was the time for action.

Moving myself right into his body, pressing my bosom onto his chest, our hands entwined between us, I spoke: "Tell me, Henri, how do you want to take me? What would you do if I gave myself to you here and now?"

The question puzzled the Frenchman for a few seconds, a distant look in those beautiful eyes, before he lowered his gaze and his cheeks flushed. "The truth, Madame? Are you sure that is what you want?"

"Yes of course, I'll know if you're lying, and besides, the truth is always best."

"Forgive me, but the – the way that... I cannot." He pushed himself away from me, turning his back and taking a step so that I couldn't see his embarrassment. "No, it isn't proper."

"Please. Tell me, I want to know." I slid around his chair and came to stand at his back. Placing one hand in the middle of his back made him raise his head, but still he would not look at me.

"I want – I want to take you by the shoulders, to throw you forwards over this desk," he took a deep breath to steady his wavering voice, then spoke quickly, "I want to throw you over this desk and take you – take you from behind like a common whore." He lowered his head again, this time in pure shame.

"Oh, Henri, is that all?" I asked with a laugh in my tone, he had honestly thought that he may insult me with that, "Honestly, I thought it was going to be something bad."

Speechless, the Captain turned back to face me. I simply smiled, my hand now on his chest. I could feel his heart beating so hard and fast beneath his toned chest, that I feared it might burst; yet it set my pulse racing in my most delightful of parts. He took a breath and made to speak, but I reached the short distance up to his mouth and laid a finger on his soft lips. From there, my hand snaked itself to behind his head, nestling in that chocolate hair that was exactly as soft as it looked.

I felt for only a second his hand on the back of my head before he pulled me into him so quickly it took even my breath away. Our lips met with an almost violent passion as Henri made me feel every bit as wanted as I was, his mouth opening around mine, his tongue darting around mine in a ballet of hungry lust. We kissed for what seemed like a day, working around and matching each other, knowing instinctively what each of us wanted.

 

After we parted, Henri turned me slowly in his arms, all the time part of my body pressing into his, until I ended up with my back against his chest. My head rested on his sloping shoulder as his long arms encircled me in a protective warmth. Yes, I actually felt safe for that one perfect moment back then, safe in his arms, safe from all the world and all the pains I'd seen over time.

Safety gave way to waves of electric pleasure as he brushed my hair aside so gently, then began to plant kisses down my neck, starting from behind my ear and working down to smother my bare shoulder in a warm, soft caress. I felt my nipples hardening more and more with every touch of his lips. The Captain wanted me all right, but his want extended past lust. This want was tender and caring too.

He stopped as he reached my shoulder, planting one last, slow kiss on the rounded top, before kicking aside the chairs in front of the desk with the violent motion of one long leg. The force with which Henri pushed me onto that desk left me with bruises for a week, but I've never complained, at the time I even let out a squeal of delight as I hit the solid wood and sent the wine glasses shattering over the floor.

Lifting my skirts so that they lay over my head, he saw that I had only stockings and a garter belt beneath and gave a welcome growl. "So, you are just like a common whore after all, Madame." Henri was obviously content to know that I was happy for him to take me as he so dearly wished. A playful slap on my backside followed, just hard enough to smart for a second before his hand slipped in a gentler way to in between my legs.

The first of his strokes sent a tingle of freezing cold pleasure across my skin, serving to heighten my senses even more as his long fingers played with my already moist pussy. An involuntary gasp escaped my throat as he twisted his hand to rub his thumb over my clit as he slowly let three of those fingers enter me.

His long, slender fingers found their way into me so easily that I knew Henri knew what he was doing. He slid them deep into me slowly, then slow again back all the way out of me. I could feel my juices welling as he slipped them back into me, quicker this time, and harder too. In and out of me then he went, making his fingers part my lips and enter me afresh each time. The feeling was intense, to say the least, warming me inside and tightening the muscles low in my body.

Then, almost as suddenly as he had started, Henri stopped, his fingers still deep inside me. I was about to protest when he gently squeezed his finger and thumb together, pinching my clit into my body and finding my g-spot with his fingers. The resulting warm rush filled me so, that when I closed my eyes to the darkness of the room, I saw colours dancing before me; the pleasures were just that strong. The heady combination of him putting so much pressure on my clitoris and making tiny movements as he pressed on my g-spot made me light-headed with ecstasy.

The liquid that I was oozing threatened to come right out of me and hit the floor, the feeling of just Henri's fingers inside of me was so good. I think that by now, I had wanted him almost as much as he wanted me. I tried to look back to see his face, that wondrous lust that all men get when they know what's coming next, but my skirts were in the way. Although I would have loved to see his face, in a way, not being able to see anything had its advantages. I felt like Henri was in full control of me, something that I didn't allow very often, but somehow I knew that deep down, he'd look after me. Besides, I might bruise like the next woman, but I can take the damage.

He must have sensed that I wanted to see him, because after I turned around, he took his fingers out of me, leaving me halfway to orgasm and my pussy aching for more. I was stopped midway through taking a breath to tell him to get on with it before I died of need, when Henri had deftly freed his rock hard manhood from his breeches and put his warm head against my wet pussy, now cooling against the air. The force with which he thrust into me winded me, knocking my stomach into the edge of the hard desk and rubbing my breasts over its rough surface.

 

Having Henri's ample length fill me felt so good, as if I'd been waiting and dry for so long. Oh, the irony of it all, but it was true. The more powerful men always felt this way, but every time it seems to surprise me. It was the wonderful feeling that always comes from getting something that it feels you've been waiting for years on end to get your hands on.

I let the weight of my upper body rest on the desk, raising my round buttocks and offering the entire depth of my pussy to the Frenchman behind me. And he took it. He plunged even further into me, touching my soft fleshy depths that had stayed warm even in the cool air of the room, hitting a pleasure spot so intense that it always seemed my body had forgotten it possessed it. Henri pulled almost entirely out of me then, slowly so that I could feel him move against every tiny millimetre of me, causing sparks of pleasure to erupt all through my sex.

Captain Henri grasped the cheeks of my ass in his long hands and squeezed as he quickened his pace in and out of me, but the strokes remained smooth and deep. The slight pain teamed with the warmth of his hands against my skin was delicious as Henri quickened his pace in and out of my still tight pussy. My breasts rubbed against the rough wood of the simple desk as their flesh poured out of the low neckline of my dress. The friction made my breasts hot and pink, the stinging with every movement making the pleasures that came from Henri thrusting his manhood deeply into me all the more intense.

My nipples hardened with the new stimulation and rubbed more against the wood grain, turning them scarlet and sending sharp pains right into my chest. All this heightened my senses and Henri must have known it, because he started to thrust faster and it felt so good that I started to let out a tiny moan with my breath every time that his body connected with mine. I could feel the orgasm welling up deep inside of me, teasing me by staying low and not wanting to surface.

I'd be lying if I said I ever wanted Henri to stop. He had the combination of pleasuring me while he knew that it was hurting me too, down to a tee. The heady combination was driving me mad and I turned my head to try and see if he was enjoying it as much as I was. That proved fruitless, as my skirt was still up round my waist, its soft bulk blocking my view. And the frustration made it all the more delicious as he kept a good pace in and out of my soaking depths.

Henri slowed again then, pushing his rock hard cock into me as far as he could muster and sending those soft but intense waves of pleasure out from the very deepest parts of me. I could feel a strong pulse in my pussy and my stomach fluttered with pleasure every time he slid himself into me. I could hear myself moaning as the orgasm built inside me, but it felt like I was a million miles away now, floating on a cushion of warm bliss. Henri groaned behind me, his grip on my ass growing a little weaker and moving to thrust my hips closer to his at the end of every stroke, trying to get that little bit further into me every time.

 

When I came, I could feel the pleasure tingling in my head and feet first, building to travel down my neck and up my legs until the two sparks finally met low in my body and exploded in waves of searing heat and freezing chills that filled my entire body. I let out a loud, long sound and moaned Henri's name almost breathlessly as the height of my orgasm hit me like an explosion of feeling and colour behind my eyelids, held tight shut, trying to capture every last drop of that exquisite delight.

My pussy tightened around Henri's hard length as I came, heightening his pleasure as the last few of his strokes came hard and slow into me. He let out a primeval grunt as his orgasm came too, and a long sigh as his seed came to meet my juices in a hot, flowing dance of feeling. I mirrored his sigh and let my body sink down onto the desk, feeling that last flutter of pleasure as I slid off Henri's hard length.

Breath came to me in slow, ragged gasps as my head spun, still floating high above me from the sheer intensity of my satisfaction. I managed to haul myself around to face Henri, flattening my skirts back down and still leaning my back against the hard desk; my face must have been a picture of enjoyment, as he smiled down at me like a job well done. And I was. Well done, that is. I'd not had a man give me such an intense orgasm so quickly in a century, and even when you're as old as I am, that's a long time to wait for some good sex.

Despite the fact that he was softening by the second, I got a good view of Henri's manhood and I knew, I'd not seen such a perfect specimen in a long time. I couldn't help myself then; he just looked so delicious with my and his juices glistening on him in the dim light of the room. Sliding down the desk to my knees, my hands took his to stop him from re-clothing himself and I sat on my haunches there for what seemed like another eternity.

Closing my eyes, I leant forward through the last of the small space that still separated us and I took him into my mouth as far as I could. Just like that, I pushed his warm length into my mouth and tasted that luscious mixture of him and me all over my tongue. He let out a breath with a sigh and the faintest of groans as my full lips caressed his already sensitive cock. The taste was exquisite as I moved my tongue around the head and pulled him back out of me.

 

Licking the last of us off my lips, I opened my eyes to look up at him. The look I received was a gorgeous mixture of gratitude, the raptures of orgasm and sheer adoration. His manhood finally softened in the cool room as I got to my feet, tracing my hands up his stomach then coming to rest of his lean chest.

He leant down then, all the animalistic lust satisfied, and cupped my face in his large hands as he kissed my wet lips. Our tongues resumed that eternal dance, struggling to taste every part of each other all at once and yet wanting to find that one special place that tastes so good.

"Persephone, I..." my finger at his lips stopped him mid-sentence.

"Don't say anything. You don't love me, Henri; you love the idea of me. I'm sorry, you are a dear and true heart among so many harsh people, but I cannot be your love." I moved my finger from his lips and stroked his jaw gently.

"Mais, pourquois Madame? Why, when you are so perfect a woman? Would you not be happy with me?"

"I would if I could, Henri, but that is my curse. I can never love one man, I am doomed to wander the worlds and search, but I shall never find someone to love." I kissed him then, as chaste and loving as I could muster, on his soft lips, begging him in my mind to understand me.

"I..." Henri sighed and moved his arms to encircle my body, then said then with his eyes closed: "Stay with me. Stay at least tonight."

I couldn't say anything. His golden eyes were so sad at the thought of not holding me like this forever that I could only nod. He took me in his arms then, and held me close to his chest so that I could hear the steady, strong beat of his heart, still fast from the exertion. It was all I could do to think of the positives right then. I would miss Henri when I went, but at least tonight, I could spend time in his arms, safe and warm against the cold, hard world.

 

So, that's what I did. I let Henri undress me like I was a helpless child, then lay me down on those soft sheets. It turned out they were cotton, but the softest that I'd felt in two hundred years, Henri must have brought them back from Egypt, as I knew nowhere in the whole of France that would sell something so soft.

As I lay there, the Captain undressed himself calmly, never taking those captivating eyes off me, and a faint smile of mixed joy and resigned sorrow gracing those tender lips of his. He climbed into bed beside me, holding out his arm as I snuggled into his warm chest. A few warm breaths of his cologne and I could feel myself drifting off to sleep as he stroked my shoulder gently.

It was hard to leave him in the morning, but I had to do it, and before he woke. It was the best way, no matter how it hurt us both. I've never been good at goodbyes.

* * *

 

So, you enjoyed yourself, I see. That's my story, for now at least. Of course, I have a lot more, I'm older than just about anyone on earth, but we'll just see of we can save those for another time. If you're good, and play nice.


End file.
